


It's okay to just want more

by northstarrrr



Category: Blink-182
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northstarrrr/pseuds/northstarrrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marks POV. Mark has had a long relationship with Tom. Initially friends which moved into fuck buddies and finally jealous ex's. It is hard to keep all this bottled up and continue to tour with this same man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's okay to just want more

Sitting in the after party. Drunk and angry. This was protocol after playing a show now. Tom strides off isolating himself from everyone but it feels more like it is done to spite me. Most of the the other people at the party follow though; charismatic, handsome, and the singer, he is what wet dreams are made of. Tom selectively invites people into his private little conversations, standing with the smokers even though he doesn't fucking smoke. Usually he collects a random array of roadies to keep the hero worship going and girls to keep them happy. It’s obvious he has no interest in the conversation he barely acknowledges a roadie praising him for box car racer, he is sitting off to the side of their conversation like it is a spectator sport. I can cope with that but sometimes he picks people, people that I would notice. Taylor is my friend from high school who before this whole mess Tom would make fun of under his breath. Tom once said he looked like he fell straight out of a Billiabong catalogue and wouldn't recognise a original thought even if it was featured on MTV. Yet as soon as he gets the chance today he corners him to laugh at his jokes and ask about his girlfriend’s new beach house. Not surprising though, this is the game we play whoever loses their temper loses. I see him look at me just for a second, to make sure I am enjoying the show of how funny and nice he is, to everyone but me. He is my Yoko and Paul wrapped into one.

Fuck, Travis sits down next to him enjoying the company of this fun friendly alternative reality Tom we barely ever see. I don’t blame him. He has always been oblivious to the weird complexities of the relationship between the two of us. We are pulled together and apart like a rip-tide in the ocean; unpredictable and rough. We’re either making each laugh until we cry or taking shots about each other’s lack of talent. That is the problem there is no middle ground any more it’s either passionate love or passionate hate never neutral, never comfortable, never safe. It also helps that Travis usually take himself a way chasing girls or talking to own friends. Maybe it's easier to be in the band that way giving distance to the train wreck. The Tom and Mark gang is a two person club, he saw that was the deal when he took over Scott’s spot. It’s also most sick how much we knew about each other, how one of us is always craving the others approval; we had become too close. Have you ever heard the saying don’t shit where you eat; well we both took a massive co-dependent shit on our band.

It all happened that one god damn night. When I was 20 and playing gigs I was drinking just to get over my nerves to play in front of people or at least that’s the line I told myself. When I drink I feel like that there are no consequences; why not egg a car, skateboard naked, prank call my sister. Tonight was a night drunk Mark thought he could climb over the wall into the public pool. After three attempts to scale the wall and falling on my face, Tom decided to take control of the situation lead me away by my hand."You're never going to make it fuckwad" he cackled. It wasn't anything The Beatles would write a song about. It was a rough grasp making sure I didn't get distracted and try to wonder off to climb a tree or do whatever Drunk Mark might have an urge to do. He had been holding onto my hand for a good 10 minutes now, he could let go at any time it's not like I am stumbling drunk. It was odd to me feeling his grip so consistently, he usually would show affection for a minute or a night then scuttle away never to discuss it again. Try to bring up the time he climbed through my window and we spent the night laughing, drinking, and eventually making out and you would think it was asking him to chop off his dick. He shuts that conversation as quick as he can. He muttered "I've got you, you fucking hyper man-boy." “Oh but you haven’t seen the finale I'm going to skinny dip in the Cowper’s pool” I laugh. "Your performance for the night is over everyone was super impressed. Now do you want some pizza? " he asks. “Fuck, Yeah” I said “I think food would be good for the system”.

We went inside and he started to microwave some left over pizza. I had that crystallising moment when you realise you like someone so much you just want to watch them do the most boring shit. That's the worst kind of obsessive love. I felt that about my sister's friend when I was 12, and got a firm your creeping her out speech from my mom.“Mark, stop looking at me you freak” he laughed. We sat down on the floor because he didn't have furniture. I knew where this was leading. I turned the TV on and some shitty infomercial was playing but hell it filled the silence. It was irrelevant what was on the TV we never watch it anyway. Tom was sitting right next to me tension was thick for the both of us, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Fuck it” With this sudden burst he grabbed my wrist and pushed them down and kissed me. The feeling of his weight was on top of me was something I craved but I pushed him off. "What the fuck" he asked. "Lets just watch this slap chop or whatever." I said breathing out, I just didn't find this charming anymore. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable or whatever" Tom said brushing his arms against mine as he sat as close as possible. "I was just happy to be ....alone...with...you" Tom said brushing my face with his hand, cheesy grin on his face. “We've been down this road a few times, huh” I exhaled. Yeah he smirked as he kissed down my neck. Fuck did I drink enough to have the courage to say this. “I like it when we mess around” he smiled and continued his way down to my chest. “But” he stopped and looked up annoyed that he wasn't getting what he wanted. “Buuuutttt what?” he sighed looking up from moving to my stomach. “Well maybe I want more" I said. He sit’s up to make eye contact with me. "More? What more is there? We hang out daily, we fuck weekly, what really more is there." Shit was I living in a delusional world thinking we had a future “Well just being honest with everyone” I said barely looking at him. He sat up and looked at the tv, all that energy had left him. "That’s nice and all but what do you think would do for our band’s image, our friends, our brands, to our families. This is fun let’s just keep it fun." My heart sunk; I guess I was pretty low on his list “oh so how long do you think I’ll be down for fun because honestly it’s losing its appeal” I wanted that statement to bash the air from his lungs like he had done to mine. “Well fuck Mark if I lost my appeal I've lost my appeal, I'm expired milk” he said standing up “Tom I just mean” I stuttered but before I could finish my thought he said "Look I just want to pass out, I ve had to much to drink" he walked into another room.

I stopped indulging this memory as I saw Tom walking in to the toilets. I followed him, I leaned against the door so no one could get in. Luckily he was the only one in there. He was looking in the mirror. “So are you having fun” he exhaled with the tiniest smile on his face, I still wanted to slap it off his face. “I guess” I said lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. “I love this whole James Dean act, pretend nothing fucking matters when really you can't keep anyone around” he smiled. “You never complained about my performances before in fact I remember you used to beg for them” a smug smile crossed my face, I flicked my cigarette at his greasy hair. I think that is what finally got him to swing at me. I went charging at him and bowled him over to the floor. “


End file.
